Grow a Pear
by FroggyFeet
Summary: Hawke never really clocked at how much guts Merrill had sometimes.


Meredith frowned, the stark golden bolts of her eyebrows darting across her face. Thankfully, Hawke didn't reply. He just watched the old girl squirm. There was a snarling rage, and suddenly Anders was between them, yelling about mages and how the three apostate rogues that Hawke had been sent to find were the product of oppression. Fenris piped up from the Champion's side, eyes blazing in his skull.

"Because mages don't _choose_ to consort with demons at all."

"Tranquillity is not the answer. That is like cutting off a child's hand so he will never be able to use weapons, just in case he uses them badly."

"A mage isn't a child. Mages always resort to demons. Push one far enough and they will always fall into the honey trap."

"You could say that about anyone. Besides, that punch of yours isn't exactly natural. Maybe they should put you down, so you know. You can't use your power for evil, either. Especially considering that you did agree to side with that Pride demon in the Fade, after all. One more step and you'll be just like the mages you hate so much."

"So says the mouthpiece of _Justice_."

There was a low growl, but Hawke had no idea which one made it. He was still shocked that his companions, who had been fighting together for years, hated each other this much. He knew there was friction between Anders and Fenris, but this. It was an eye opener. They were staring at each other past him, and the sheer hatred that fogged the room was palpable, _suffocating_. Meredith herself looked just as surprised as him.

"It's because you use fear as a crutch, Templar."

The four of them turned, and stared blankly at the tiny elven woman in the doorway. Her face was uncharacteristically sharp, the dalish tattoos scrawled across her face suddenly more pointed, clear.

"You use fear to crush the mages, and squash out anyone who questions your authority. If you taught them the risks of demons, how to defend against them, and how they will destroy you, then this wouldn't be a problem. Demons feed on ignorance, they grow with fear. If you keep your mages in the dark because you are scared of what they will do with the knowledge, then you shoot yourself in the foot. You use the Circle as a prison; the crime a simple act of nature. Magic is in the earth, the sky, the water. Magic is in blood. It is choice and free will that makes a mage, and that in return flows into the magic. It is okay for one of your spell casters to use blood magic to crush all who oppose you, but when it is an enemy spell caster then you are the first to blow the horn of war."

Merrill shook her head, "Anders, you get all righteous over mages being oppressed and how badly they are treated, but you cease to see that mages have an incredible power, and they will use it how they see fit. Hawke uses his magic for the greater good. But the mage that was behind the Kirkwall murders used his magic for evil. The bad apple always spoils the bunch. Maybe you should be lecturing mages. Or maybe you shouldnt."

"Fenris, you let the Magisters and your experience of Tevinter to darken your opinion of mages. You say that you are shaking free of your shackles to that man, and yet you let him taint your view of the world. Even though he is dead, his ghost hangs over you like a bad smell. You hang onto all your hatred, and yet you forget that when he stood in the Hanged Man, when you drove that blade through his chest, _who_ was at your back?"

The white haired elf looked away.

"_We were_. We were pushing the Shades back, crushing the corpses that Danarius woke up; we were making a path for you to kill your former master. Not because of right and wrong, and not to make a point to you. We did it because you are a part of our group. Because you are our friend, regardless of the Lirium. Regardless of your past."

"You use our magic to push us away, and make it a reason to not trust us. I might not understand what you have been through, and I will never be able to empathise with you, but it **doesn't** mean **I do not care**. Being a mage does not make you a bad person. Your choices do."

She turned lightly on her heel, "night commander, that blade of yours stinks of magic, and yet you preach how that it can be easily manipulated for evil deeds, and how it must be controlled." The elf's eyes darkened, "you are not perfect. You stand on the knife edge of revolution, and instead of stopping it, you urge it forwards. You hide behind your banners and slogans, but when the people of Kirkwall are in need, you hide behind these things like a frightened girl. The mages of the Circle need you to protect and guide them, not to slaughter them and degrade them like a horde of nugs!"

"Humans and their ridiculous notions of 'honor, protection and right and wrong' make my head hurt. Hawke, I am returning to my home. Good luck with this nuisance."

The woman walked away. Leaving the dust to settle in her wake.

Hawke found his voice first.

"Wow."


End file.
